Dear Diary
by Black-Angel-001
Summary: They'd never meant to find it. It had been pure accindent...or luck. But, once found, they couldn't just leave it alone without reading it. Even though that was wrong, the children of Trisha Elric figured they had a right. After all, they both had given a
1. Proloug

**Dear Diary**

**Black-Angel-001: since this has never been done before, i thought i'd try it. basically, the boys find their mother's diary and start reading it. it's going to have the dates of when i write the entries for trisha and it's going to tell about life from her pov. enjoy.**

**Dear Diary**

They'd never meant to find it. It had been pure accindent...or luck. But, once found, they couldn't just leave it alone without reading it. Even though that was wrong, the children of Trisha Elric figured they had a right. After all, they both had given alot to try and bring her back. There was no real harm in reading a dead woman's diary...right? Edward and Alphonse Elric wasn't so sure, but convinced themselves of it anyway. Once they started they couldn't stop. The brother's soon felt that they were supposed to read the diary, to find out what their mother was like in her private life.

And so, they read it.

**Black-Angel-001: now it's nothing but diary entries.**


	2. 24 October

24 October

Dear Diary,

Well, I finally found you. Hard to believe I was barely 15 when I got you rom Mother; I suppose it's because I'm now almost 20. When I moved, I'd lost a few things, including you, but now that you're found I can stop worrying.

I met a very wonderful man not too long ago. I was in town shopping and saw him coming out of the bookstore. He was very handsome and looked like a scholar. I don't know why I think of him so much. I'll probably never see him again. But, let me describe him for you, diary, then maybe he'll get out of my head.

His clothes were simple looking, but looked magnificent on him. He had long dark blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail (I've never seen a man wear his hair so long before!) and a beard to match. It's hard to describe that beard, for some reason. He wears glasses, probably from reading so much, which only adds to his already dignified appearence. His skin is near tan but not quite.

I can't help but wish to see him again. Could this be an infatuation with a complete stranger?

--Trisha


	3. 27 October

27 October

Dear Diary,

Things have been so quiet lately I thought I wouldn't bother you with anything. I hadn't even planned on writing today, but I saw that man again, walking down the road. He must have sensed me watching him or something because he turned to look straight at me. Then he half smiled and continued walking. I got to see his eyes better; they looked so sad and distant...as if he cut himself off from the world and everyone in it. I can't understand how a person would do that, or why, but that's the feeling I got. 

It started raining not to long ago. It isn't a warm rain, but a bone-chilling kind of rain, the typical kind you get in fall. I suppose we need it though; there hasn't been much or any rain at all for almost a month, whcih can be hard on the farmers. 

Speaking of jobs, I got one! The job itself isn't all that special since there are almost ten other women doing the same thing as me, but it pays for my bills and allows me to get food, so I'm not complaining...much. I work as a seamstress, sewing and putting clothes together, mending them, the like. It's increadibly easy work if I do it by hand, but it's harder with a sewing machine. I haven't really worked with the machine that much, so I don't know how it operates, really. But, I am learning. I work all week, except on Sundays, from eight in the morning to eleven at night. Most of the girls there have to leave earlier because of their family, but since I live on my own, I can work later and not worry. 

Some neighbors came by earlier yesterday, asking if I wanted to have dinner with them one night. I readily agreed, of course. No offense, diary, even if you are good company for a short while, I do wish for more human contact. I suppose that's what I get for moving all the way out here, from the city. 

Well, I suppose I should get to bed so I can get up early in the morning. 

All my love,

--Trisha

Ps: I still always hope to see that man again. Mother would be appalled at my thoughts, but since she isn't here, I'm not going to worry! 


	4. 1 November

1 November

Dear Diary,

I'm looking for a job. Again. The factory I worked at caught fire and burned to the ground. No one is sure how it happened, but we do know, in theory at least, what helped it along. All the wool, thread, and other materials probably helped it along. I was lucky enough to get out with a few scratches and a little bit of smoke inilahtion. Other girls weren't so lucky.

That man was there (along with the rest of the town) and helped put the fire out. With alchemy. It was amazing. Of course I've seen alchemy before, but nothing like what he did. He just clapped and put his hands on the town fountain. Water shot up and dowsed the fire. He was also one of the first ones at my side when I came out. I also found out his name: Hoenheim Elric. 

He came to visit me during my short hospital stay, found out I was living alone, and said he would stop by every now and then to say hi and check on how I'm doing. I think he seemed surprised when I told him I wasn't married yet. Hoenheim (I love that name!) also invited me to dinner. We haven't decided on a date yet. I can't wait though; I'm so excited!

I may be able to get a job working for a fruit seller or working with a farmer that doesn't live that far from my home. I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Love always,

--Trisha 


	5. 10 December

10 December

Dear Diary,

I've been having a wonderful time with Hoenheim. We had dinner together a few nights ago, at his house. Honestly, he isn't much of a cook, but the food was edible. It seems he isn't married and never was, and that he does a few odds and ends for the State military and a few others. Mostly, it's in alchemy, of course, and that the work was both easy and somewhat gratifying. I really enjoy talking with him, even if I don't know that much about his art.

I still haven't found a regular job yet, but by doing a few odds and ends, like mending clothes and cleaning house for other people, I'm managing.

Oddly enough, though, there have been times when I can't breath, or get dizzy. I don't know what's wrong with me, but since it comes and goes I suppose it's nothing; maybe just an aftereffect of the fire and smoke inihilation. I told Hoenheim about it, and he got extremely worried and told me to let him know if anything happens.

I'd found out not too long ago that the military is at wa

I'm sorry, I blacked out for a while. It was strange. One minute I'm writing and the next I wake up with my head on your pages and a little bit of blood on them as well. I can't hep but wonder if this really is the product of that fire or something completely different...

Anyway, the military has sent State Alchemists to Ishbal to 'deal with the rebels'. Personally, I believe it's wrong, but there's nothing I can do about it. The Rockbells, that's the family living not too far away, might go in to help the wounded; they really are wonderfull doctors and people. 

--Trisha 


	6. 29 December

29 December 

Dear Diary,

As I'm writing, I'm listening to a friend's son play the piano. It's a beautiful song, and it's quickly become one of my favorites. It starts as a slow love song, but then gets faster and harder, then goes back to the romantic feel, but still keeps the fast pace. It's very comforting, especially when one is drinking tea and sitting with friends.

I'm afraid I'm going to always make mention of Hoenheim; I can't help it. I think I'm in love with him. Isn't that a bit of interesting news? Of course, you probably already knew that, but I didn't, so it's a shock to me. Anyway, dear Hoenheim is away. He left only a few weeks ago, by summons of a commanding officer in Central City. He told me it was nothing to worry about, that they probably need him to help with a few experiments they were having trouble with. I hope he's right.

There has been a bit of miscommunication between us, diary. When I mentioned that the state was in war, what I meant was that Ishbalans and military soilders have been at odds with each other. It wasn't too long ago before I found out why: a small Ishbalan child was killed by a soilder. Apparently, the military has NOT sent the State Alchemists' in yet; I'm ashamed to say that I heard rumors and listened to them. From now on, I think I will not believe everything I hear.

I'm sure you're wondering about my health, since the last time I wrote, I'd mentioned the dizzy spells and such. Well, I did see a doctor about it, and I'm currently taking some medicine for it. Of course, by the time the medicine was delivered from West City, the spells had stopped. I've put them up on a shelf in my room to save for a rainy day.

Well, now I think I'll play with Edna's new baby boy (that makes six boys now, three girls), Joseph. Timothy, the one playing the piano, is playing a more lively tune that we can dance to.

Love always,

--Trisha

**(Note from _Black-Angel-001_: To the reviewers who had comments about the mention I made of the Ishbal Civil War/Dispute, I checked into it, and discovered some interesting things. Obviously, I made a correction as best I could. Sorry about the confusion.)**


	7. 25 January

25 January

Dear Diary,

It feels like I haven't written in forever, I've been so busy! Hoenehim and I have been spending more and more time together now (only when he isn't working on his secret alchemy project. No matter how much I beg he won't tell me what it is), and I've started a winter vegetable garden. I know, gardening in winter! Mr. Gates claims I would never make it as a true farmer, and I fear he is right. But, I love my little garden dearly and can only hope for the best. Since Hoenheim is working, I have been able to weed and plant. It took awhile to pull up the weeds, and the rest of the day to plant the seeds correctly. Even though these grow in winter, it still has to be done very carefully, or else I will lose them. But, it's gratyfying work and hopefully I'll soon be able to eat them and sell them!

Hoenheim sometimes looks very tired and I've noticed that he wears sweet perfumes, almost sickly sweet. While we were visiting friends together, someone asked him why he wears perfume and where he got it. Hoenheim said, that he wears it to drain his sinus and to clear his headaches. He gets the perfumes ('m assuming he has more than one type) from some shop in the west areas, or he makes them himself. Imagine, wearing perfume for headaches! Well, he can wear his perfume whenever he has to; I'll still love him.

I vaugly remember saying that Hoenheim smiles sadly. Not that he does that much anymore. In fact, he smiles very brightly now and beams when people tease us. I have yet to hear him laugh. The only time I ever really see him down in when he's had a bad day, or when someone tells him he is getting old and needs to get married and start a family. He'd probably never admit it to me, or anyone else for that matter, but I think he did have a wife and child, but lost them somehow so he won't talk about it.

Oh, someone's at the door. I'll be back as soon as I can.

It was David Thompson. Again. He's been coming over every chance he gets. Funny thing is, he never comes when Hoenheim is around. David is sweet, but I don't like him much. When he stares at me, I start to sqirm. He gives me the creeps.

Mother finally wrote to me. I can't say that I wrote her every day, but I have a few times. But, this is the first time she's written back. Here's a bit from her letter:

"I, meaning your father and I, was hoping that you would come home for a while. Juding from what happened to you in your last letter, I'd say it would do you good.

"We missed you at Christmas. When my friends asked where you were, I simply told them that you were with some of your father's relatives.They believed, thank goodness, but I don't know how long it will last or when the truth will come out. Darling, I really wish you would come home. When is this rebellion of yours going to end?"

I think you can get your own conclussions from the last sentance. Right now, though, it's time for bed. Until next time. 

Love always,

--Trisha 


	8. 27 January

27 January

Dear Diary,

The weather matches my mood: dard and sad. I got a message from father almost right after I got mother's letter. He told me not to worry about what she said, and that hard times were to be expected, even in the country. He also said that if I needed anything, then to call him and he'll help. That's what I love about my father. He knows when to leave well enough alone and when to step in. Maybe that has something to do with his background.

You see, my mother came from a rather wealthy family, while my father came from a small town similar to Resemboul. I think it's somewhere in the southwest area. Anyway, they married after Daddy's business boomed and moved to a city in the north. Daddy was brought up to be self-dependable, to work for what you got. Mother was raised in just the opposite way. But, regardless, they were in love (or so I like to think) and doing well. I'm their first and only child. Mother spoiled me as she was spoiled, but Daddy spoiled me in a completely different way. He doted, of course, because I was his only child and his daughter, but he never took it as far as mother did. When she went shopping without me, he allowed me to change from the frilly dresses I always wore into boy's clothes. Then I could run around until mother came home. He did always expect me to be polite at formal gatherings, which I thought was pretty fair. 

Another difference in the way they raised me, is that mother taught me how to get other people to do things for me. Dad taught me how to do things myself, but also to accept help from others if I need it. Obviously, you can't get anyone to do any of your work for you here in Resemboul, because they have their own things to do.

Anyway, now you know about where I came from. I've learned not to tell anyone, even a diary, about my rich background because people tend to loot at you funny. That stops when they see you pull your own weight but still. I don't think I'll tell Hoenheim anything either. I couldn't stand for him to look at me like that.

Love always,

--Trisha 


	9. 2 March

2 March

Dear Diary,

Hoenheim proposed and then later we had a huge fight. I was so happy when he asked me to marry him, I couldn't stop smiling or crying. David ruined it by saying that I was already engaged to him, and that I was pregnant with his child. Apparently, Hoenheim can be a very jealous man, and when he gets jealous he gets angry. I went from happy to terrified. I would have sworn that he almost killed David when he began... never mind. I'd rather erase it all from my memory, never think of it again.

I haven't answered Hoenheim's proposal, and now I'm not so sure of my reply.

Love always,

--Trisha 


End file.
